


A Brief Guide to Dragon Courtship Rituals

by misura



Category: Dragaera - Steven Brust
Genre: M/M, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-13
Updated: 2008-08-13
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Morrolan goes to war, Vlad plays a part and Kragar observes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brief Guide to Dragon Courtship Rituals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jenavira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenavira/gifts).



 

 

Kragar catches on about a month, two weeks, four days and twenty-nine hours before Vlad does. Compared to the average lifespan of the average Dragaeran, that's not a very long time. Even for an Easterner, it might not be considered a very long time - when it concerns a relationship, for example.

Over the years though, Kragar's learned to put things in perspective. Not so much because he's working for an Easterner (although working for Vlad has given him a whole new appreciation for boredom, or at least a life with more deadlines and less 'I need this information which would normally take you two weeks tomorrow') but rather because he's been a Dragon.

Truth be told, Kragar prefers not to dwell on the past. At present, he's a Jhereg.

Still, he remembers things, and, of course, he knows things every Dragaeran knows, even when Easterners might not. 

One thing Kragar knows (and Vlad doesn't realize) is that a war can be lost in far less than one month, two weeks, four days and twenty-nine hours.

Another thing (and this is part memory and part common sense) is that all Dragonlords are bastards, who no more know when to quit than they'd know how to.

_Love is war._

The Dragon-Jhereg wars are, if not a thing of legend, at least a thing of 'history that nobody in his right mind would want to see repeated'. Morrolan, in Kragar's expert assessment, is quite sane as far as Dragonlords go - not taking into consideration his (some might say) slightly perverse interest in Easterners and witchcraft, but then, nobody's a complete lost cause.

Patience is a Jhereg's virtue (and a Dragon's vice); Kragar can wait for Morrolan to decide on his course of action. Lucky for Vlad, he's got no real territory Morrolan can dispute the borders of, no army for Morrolan to match his own army against and no castle for Morrolan to besiege. There's a reason why conflicts between Houses tend to get messy, and this would be it. When both sides have got their own armies, everything is much easier and simpler - except, of course, for the soldiers. (Kragar's been one of them; he knows what it's like.)

Vlad's resources from a Dragonlord's point of view are pathetically limited. That, too, is lucky for Vlad, Kragar thinks - Morrolan can't, in all honour, consider him his equal, which means he'll give himself a handicap of sorts, and Dragonlords being Dragonlords, Morrolan is likely to overestimate his own forces and underestimate Vlad's.

Unlucky for Kragar, he's pretty damn sure Morrolan will definitely consider him one of Vlad's resources.

_When a war is impractical, a duel will do._

"He's got to be joking!" Vlad says.

Loiosh shifts position - Kragar assumes he's making some sort of comment, but the expression on Vlad's face gives nothing away. In this, at least, Vlad has learned subtlety.

"Dragonlords rarely do." Kragar knows this from first-hand experience. Of course, it might simply be that Dragonlords have a definition of 'amusing' that's wholly different from that of most people. (In fact, Kragar reflects, they almost certainly do.) To a Dragonlord, ordering a suicidal charge might be very amusing. To the soldiers receiving the order, it's far less so.

"He can't be serious!"

Stupid people sometimes repeat themselves in the hopes of getting a different answer the second time around. Kragar gives Vlad the benefit of doubt and assumes Vlad hasn't heard his first reply.

Not that pointing out that Morrolan isn't joking and is, in fact, serious is going to be at all helpful to Vlad. Vlad isn't an idiot; he doesn't need Kragar to point out the obvious. (Well, he does, only Kragar doesn't think he's quite ready to be told 'let's try to kill each other' is the oldest pick-up line in the Dragonlord's book of 'ways to let someone know you care and/or want to have sex with them'.)

"He's giving you choice of weapons," Kragar points out.

Loiosh moves his wings and this time, Vlad's expression changes.

"Do you think he knows how to play checkers?"

_Kill. Revivify. Ask them for dinner._

"Well," Aliera says, to nobody in particular (because she'd never lower herself to address an ex-Dragon who's a Jhereg to boot). "This is disappointing."

Kragar's a little surprised to find himself half in agreement with her. A rousing game of checkers isn't quite the stuff epic romances are made of. Then again, neither are a Dragonlord who just might be the third most powerful person of the Empire and a Jhereg. (The Easterner-part, Kragar figures, can be gotten around, considering the rumors about the Empress and her lover.)

Aliera doesn't quite seem to approve, but she doesn't quite seem to disapprove either. The Easterners have a saying about how people who live in glass houses can't afford to throw stones, and strange as it might be (who'd live in a house of glass?) Kragar thinks he can see it how it applies here. Even though Aliera's far more discrete about her relationship than Morrolan, hers is known throughout the Empire and is likely to go down in history, whereas Morrolan's is as of yet not even a topic of Court-gossip.

"I killed a Hawklord earlier today," Aliera continues her monologue. "He talked nice, yet he turned out to barely know one end of a sword from the other." She sighs as Vlad, after a full five minutes, finally makes a move. He's looking nervous, Kragar notices. Morrolan looks smug but then he's a Dragonlord. 

"Life is full of disappointments," Kragar offers.

Aliera offers him a scornful look in exchange - he takes it along with another glass of the excellent wine Morrolan pours for all his guests.

_Emphasize the differences between the two of you in private -_

"Your skills were a bit rusty, I believe," says Morrolan. He's being polite, or as polite as Dragonlords can be, which is usually not very if they've just dealt you a crushing defeat. Kragar's a little impressed by Morrolan's lack of sneering.

"Only Easterners play this game." Vlad makes it sound like an accusation. It probably is one.

"I learned it a long time ago." Morrolan is still being polite, sipping his wine and smiling. Goading Vlad. Kragar can admire his strategy in this, at least, even if he hasn't got a clue of what was going on during the game. He wonders if Vlad has also picked up on the implied excuse he's being handed for his defeat. For Morrolan, 'a long time ago' is probably at least a century.

Vlad looks annoyed. Loiosh makes a slight movement. Kragar wishes he could hear what passes between the two of them - not for the first time, he wonders just how smart Loiosh really is. Vlad's an Easterner and a Jhereg, and Kragar's a Dragon (ex-Dragon, if you want to get technical, only once you're in a House, you can never truly get out of it again) and a Jhereg, and Loiosh is ... Loiosh.

"I want a rematch," Vlad says.

Aliera snorts. Teldra smiles (a real smile, not one of those smug Dragon-smiles Kragar has learned to hate). Morrolan's expression doesn't change at all.

"But of course."

_\- let others emphasize the similarities between the two of you in public._

It's very nearly impossible to keep any secrets in Castle Black.

Kragar, resigned, tries to keep himself entertained by collecting the rumors, the gossip, the second- and third-hand accounts from Vlad and Morrolan's checkers match. The fact that they are involved is assumed; probably, Kragar thinks, only Vlad is unaware of what he's gotten himself into. The reasons for their involvement, however, are a matter of speculation.

"They're both from the East," is a popular (if not entirely accurate) one.

"They both practice witchcraft," is another one.

Kragar dreads the moment speculation turns to what a pair of people who are both 'from the East' and 'practioners of witchcraft' might get up to in private. He doesn't think he'll be able to keep a straight face after he's found that out and has to face Vlad again.

"Morrolan suggests I stay the night," Vlad says, clearly not finding anything even remotely disturbing about the suggestion. "That way, I won't have to teleport here again tomorrow."

"What's more important: your job or proving to a Dragonlord you can't admit that a hundred years of practice have made him better at a game than you can ever be?" Kragar asks.

(If love is a war, then Kragar's a general - and as he's not a Dragonlord, he knows when it's wise to retreat and rally at a different location.)

_It's better to be found late than to be found waiting._

Vlad's problem is that he doesn't dare lose his temper around Morrolan; every time Morrolan feints or strikes or otherwise tries to prod him into unconsidered (or ill-considered) action, Vlad's response is to do nothing.

Kragar might be amused at Morrolan's frustration if it hadn't been for two facts, the first being that Morrolan never shows any of it. Morrolan is unfailingly good-tempered; it's part of his strategy to get Vlad pissed off, and it might well be the only part that works.

The second fact is that once Morrolan is gone, Kragar's the one who gets bitched at.

_Actions speak more loudly than words._

Ironically (or, given what Vlad does for a living: fittingly) it's the duels that finally tip Vlad off that something's going on. Kragar does give him a bit of a push (well, a shove, really) in the right direction, but he leaves the final conclusion to Vlad.

"Oh, and Morrolan's dueled about half a dozen people for implying you're not good enough for him."

Subtle, it isn't, only it's very effective in making Vlad sit straight and pay attention.

"Morrolan did what?" Loiosh makes an unheard comment. Vlad glowers at him.

"He killed them all, of course." Of course. "Aliera revivified a few of them." The ones whom she thought 'talked nice' and 'knew the difference between one end of a sword and the other', no doubt.

To a Dragonlord, there's no greater insult than to imply a person is incapable of defending his own honor. Morrolan's still playing this by the book, in other words, as far as Kragar can see.

"But why?" Vlad asks.

(Almost by coincidence, Kragar's gaze meets Loiosh's, and for the first time, Kragar feels he can perfectly understand the jhereg.)

_Knowledge is power; familiarize yourself with every aspect of their lives -_

When you're a Dragonlord with a soul-sucking Great Weapon, there aren't really any places you're unwelcome - or rather: there are many places where you're unwelcome, but very few where anyone would be unwise enough to tell you so.

Thus, when Morrolan comes strolling into a bar that just happens to be Vlad's favorite place to go for a drink after work (regular work, not 'work'), Kragar isn't truly surprised at anything except that it's taken Morrolan this long (a month, two weeks and a day).

_\- but prevent them from learning anything about you save that which you wish them to know._

Vlad wants to get drunk but doesn't quite dare in Morrolan's company. Kragar wonders if that's Morrolan's purpose, or if Morrolan's actually here in the hopes of catching Vlad while he's off guard.

The odds are about even, Kragar estimates. Vlad-in-need-of-a-drink-and-not-getting-one is cranky; Vlad-drunk-off-his-ass is liable to stupidity, and either will be easy prey to a Dragonlord of Morrolan's sort.

Kragar feels like he's just been put in command of a very weak unit of infantry that's about to be charged by two full units of cavalry. The wisest course of action would be to retreat (again) only the terrain is ill-suited for an orderly yet speedy withdrawal, besides of which, Kragar feels this is ground they need to keep. What's the world coming to when a pair of Jhereg leaves a bar because there's a big bad Dragonlord in it? This place is Vlad's. If anyone should be made to retreat, it's Morrolan.

Morrolan meets his gaze for a brief moment and smiles, carefully not lifting his glass so as to prevent giving the impression he might actually be drinking to Kragar's health or something inappropriate like that. Dragonlords don't drink to the health of ex-Dragons.

"What are you doing here?" Kragar figures he's got nothing to lose. Morrolan won't kill him for being less than polite; it would be too great an honor (from Morrolan's point of view, that is).

"I was thirsty," Morrolan replies pleasantly, looking at Vlad.

Kragar is tempted to ask 'for what?' but he doesn't really want to know. Vlad is no help, floating somewhere in between 'tipsy' and 'drunk' and not bothering to sober up and give Kragar some assistance in kicking Morrolan back to his floating castle, where he belongs.

Loiosh makes a fluttering motion. Vlad blinks, seeming to notice Morrolan for the first time. Morrolan inclines his head, either in greeting to Vlad or in ... something else, to Loiosh.

"You may leave," Morrolan informs Kragar, stealing his line.

_Feed the rumor mill, lest others do it for you._

"Last night ... " Vlad says, the next morning, looking a little pale and like he's suffering from a headache, although it might just be the report he's supposedly been reading for the past half hour (Kragar's kept track, and knowing what's on the page, he can't imagine Vlad needing even half that long).

"Forget about it," Kragar replies.

He'd be surprised if a hundred versions of what happened and of what might have happened before and after aren't already all over Adrilankha and beyond by now - it's only a small comfort that at least half a dozen of those versions will be relatively harmless and as far from the truth as is possible without including anything too easily proven to be inaccurate. 

(There'd have been more if Kragar had only known in advance that Morrolan was going to choose such a direct approach; at this point in the proceedings, it's positively un-Dragon-like.)

_Make their allies your own._

"Rumor has it you've been keeping some unusual company recently," Kiera says. It's three days after the incident in the bar, and Kragar has yet to discover how Morrolan knew about that in the first place, let along that Vlad would be there at the time. He's tempted to give up, but tells himself that next time, the passed-along information may be even more harmful, and offered to a less honorable party.

A Dragonlord with delusions of romance, Kragar might be able to handle; a Jhereg with a dislike for Easterners might cause some trouble, especially now that Vlad's somewhat distracted. At the very least, it would prolong matters, and Kragar's getting rather tired of the feeling that he's in command by default, because Vlad's not up to realizing what's going on.

Vlad shrugs. Kiera's gaze wanders around the room. It's a thief's gaze, Kragar recognizes - assessing, evaluating and analyzing. She's the only person he's ever met who always sees him without his needing to alert her to his presence, which would be enough to make Kragar a little wary of her. (Given that Kiera's a legend within the Jhereg, Kragar was wary of her even before he ever met her though, and knowing that she's one of the very, very few people Mario will do 'work' for without asking any questions beyond the 'who' doesn't help.)

"Are you worried about me?" Vlad seems almost amused at the idea, as if Kiera's his mother and Vlad her seven-hundred-year old son, mature enough by now to make his own decisions.

"Are you in trouble?" Kiera counters, giving Vlad a searching look.

Vlad, interestingly enough, blushes. Kragar wonders what that means, and what Kiera will assume it means; he's not sure which version of the rumor she's heard. Possibly, being Kiera, she knows the truth.

Kiera sighs and rises. "Just be careful," she says.

Excellent advise, Kragar thinks, if a tad general and probably a little too late. Besides, wars generally aren't won by people being careful. They're just lost by people who aren't.

"Aren't I always?" Vlad replies, with a hint of a grin.

Kiera looks like she wants to say something to that, but doesn't. Possibly, Loiosh does it for her; once Kiera is gone, Vlad turns and gives him a look to which Loiosh replies with a yawn.

_Make your interests theirs._

The problem, Kragar realizes, is that in some ways, Morrolan knows Vlad fairly well by now. It works both ways, of course; in some ways, Vlad knows (and even resembles) Morrolan fairly well, too. The difference is that where Morrolan is aware of his knowledge, Vlad would probably deny it, having a bit of a strange attitude when it comes to Dragaerans. (Kragar assumes it comes from being an Easterner, but then, Vlad's a Jhereg as well, and a subject of the Empress; he should be more comfortable with things like probably being able to read a Dragonlord's intentions.)

Kragar's not sure if Morrolan has a bit of an Easterner in him, or Vlad a bit of a Dragon - maybe it's a little of both. He doesn't think it's got anything to do with the fact they both practice witchcraft; almost everyone in the Empire practices sorcery, yet Kragar's never noticed that skilled sorcerers understand one another better than unskilled ones. 

Naturally, the witchcraft does make for quite a convenient excuse to request Vlad's presence at Castle Black. When Morrolan pretends he's not a haughty Dragonlord for a few moments, whose honor would never stand for asking a lowly Easterner for help, Kragar can practically see the hint of Dragon in Vlad taking over, taking too much pride in his superior skills to even consider refusing. (Easterners don't have any pride, every Dragaeran knows, no more than they have honor, intelligence, or the ability to fight off any Dragaeran who's truly determined to conquer them.)

"I thought Morrolan had his own batallion of witches living at Castle Black," Kragar says, as Vlad rummages about in a drawer, looking for something. (Kragar'd help him search, and might even know where the object in question is, but Vlad hasn't asked for help and Kragar doesn't feel like offering.)

"Circle," Vlad corrects. "He does." Kragar nods (he knows the proper term for a group of witches who work together quite well) and waits for Vlad to think things over a little more.

Loiosh leaves his spot on the bookshelf and lands on Vlad's desk. Vlad gives him a slightly distracted look, then says: "None of them were born in the East." Kragar waits some more. Loiosh might be cocking his head, or just trying to get a better look at something. "Noish-pa was, and he taught me everything I know about being a witch."

Kragar notes the phrasing: 'being a witch'. Not 'witchcraft' or even 'the practice of witchcraft'. At this moment, at least, Vlad views himself as a witch and Morrolan as another witch.

Loiosh hops on his favored spot on Vlad's shoulder, looking like he belongs there (and what, indeed, would a witch be without his familiar?)

"I may be gone a few days," Vlad starts saying, at the same time Kragar says: "I'm going with you."

"Melestav can take care of most things," Kragar says. "Things are pretty quiet right now and besides, I can teleport." Without the slightest discomfort, too.

Vlad looks like he wants to argue. Loiosh shifts his position. "Fine," Vlad says.

_Be courteous to their enemies -_

"We had a Jhereg for dinner last night," Aliera informs the wall just to the right of Kragar's head.

"As a guest, I assume." The words slip out before he can swallow them; this thing with Vlad and Morrolan is getting on Kragar's nerves, and Aliera isn't helping. She doesn't even smile.

"Sethra says the Jhereg serve a purpose." Aliera's tone makes it clear she doesn't share Sethra's point of view. Given what he knows about the Jhereg (which might be more than Aliera does, although given her lover, it's not entirely certain), Kragar's inclined to do the same. Then again, this is Sethra Lavode. If she's ever been wrong about something, Kragar has yet to hear about it. If Kiera's a legend within the Jhereg, Sethra's a legend within the whole Empire.

It makes Kragar rather uncomfortable to think about the number of living legends Vlad's on a first-name basis with. (Of course, Kragar is fairly familiar with a living legend himself, but Mario's just, well, Mario. Very, very good, yes, but not awe-inspiring, and with a bit of a strange taste in lovers.)

The worst part is that half the time, Vlad doesn't even seem to be aware of it. (The other half, he doesn't seem to care.) 

_\- and discourteous to their friends._

When you're at Castle Black, it's virtually impossible not to end up in the same room as Morrolan at some point; once Aliera has wandered off to go insult someone else (or possibly simply address the wall to the right of their head), Kragar doesn't bother trying to avoid doing so.

Most people he meets (or rather: passes) ignore him. It's something Kragar's grown used to over the years, although he's done his best not to rely on it too much. He's not above using it to his advantage but (he reasons) if one Jhereg can see him (albeit a legendary one), there's no real reason why there wouldn't be more people with the same ability, be they Jhereg or whichever Houses Kiera's features come from. (Kragar sees a hint of Dzur in her, only he's not sure and it'd be rude and therefore unwise to ask.) Frankly, most of the time, being ignored is more of a blessing than a nuisance.

Dragons generally don't like ex-Dragons, and reputedly open-minded and hospitable as Morrolan is, most of his guests are still of his own House. They wouldn't challenge Kragar to a duel (that being too much of an honor) but they'd undoubtedly find a way to make themselves annoying and unpleasant.

Kragar wonders how many of them are here just so that they can boast to their friends about having been challenged to a duel by Morrolan, for making a disparaging comment about Easterners. It wouldn't surprise him to learn Morrolan has invited them specifically for that purpose; few of them seem old enough to carry on a civilized argument about sorcery, politics or strategy, and all of them seem to be of the swaggering, almost Dzur-like kind.

_Dinner in public is a fine way to make your relationship official -_

"I believe they're in Morrolan's quarters," Aliera says, after Kragar has spent the better part of an hour wandering around, telling himself he doesn't need any help to find Vlad. (Too late it occurs to him that instead of asking Aliera, he might just as easily have asked Lady Teldra, with the added benefit of not getting sneered at and possibly even having been offered something to eat.) "Studying."

Aliera's expression implies a considerable amount of doubt at there being any studying involved in whatever it is Vlad and Morrolan are doing.

"I thought there was supposed to be dinner in a few minutes." Dinner at Castle Black is a bit like dinner at Valabar's, except that at Valabar's, the diners have more privacy and (supposedly) better food. The few times he's dined here before, Kragar has tried to find himself a place to sit among the less important, non-Dragon guests. They're usually more interesting than Morrolan's important guests, and they're less likely to ruin his appetite.

Aliera shrugs. "I expect Morrolan will have a tray sent up. It's unusual," she adds, almost reluctantly. "People will probably talk." The prospect seems to cheer her up a little. People who insult Vlad's honor may be able to count on a duel with Morrolan; people who insult Morrolan's are just as likely to be challenged by Aliera instead.

_\- breakfast in private may serve you better in the long run._

"I don't think I'll ever understand Dragons," Vlad complains, nursing a cup of klava.

Loiosh doesn't react in any way that Kragar can see - they've brought him his own plate of food, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to have a jhereg sitting on the breakfast-table. Kragar's not sure if that means that Loiosh feels Vlad's being oversensitive or that he's simply hungry. Perhaps, if Vlad plans to stay here much longer, Kragar can make a nuisance of himself and request a book about jhereg from Morrolan's (supposedly) extremely well-sorted library from which all of his guests are allowed to borrow books, on the condition that they treat them well, return them in the state they received them and don't take them outside the castle.

"If it's any comfort," Kragar says, knowing it won't be but feeling obliged to make the effort, "they likely feel the same way about you, boss." Not all Dragons, Kragar thinks, and most of them would probably declare they haven't got the least desire to remedy their lack of understanding. Vlad knows that though. He just wants someone to make encouraging sounds while he spills his guts (or, knowing Vlad, doesn't) and Kragar's the lucky guy.

Vlad sighs, sips his klava, brightens, remembers he's supposed to be bitter on the morning after. (After what, Kragar's still not entirely sure about, and at this point, he estimates his chances of finding out as all but zero.)

"Let's go home."

_Victory is defeat._

 


End file.
